It’s been more than seven years now, since he left his native home
It wasn’t easy just to turn his back on all he’d ever known.
But he’d burned all his bridges, there was nowhere left to turn,
The only choice remaining was to leave the fire or burn.

Oh it’s strange, the way he feels
Oh it’s strange, the way he feels
For he’s caught between the devil and the deep blue sea
He’s living like a prisoner in the land of liberty.

Now he can only do the work that no one else will do
And they say that it’s illegal, that he never paid his dues.
But they like to have cheap labor, so they look the other way
To feed and clothe his family, he works sixteen hours a day.

Sometimes they ask him why he won’t go back to his own land
But he won’t talk about it, he says they wouldn’t understand.
For no matter where or when, there comes a time for every man,
When he must do what must be done, and the consequence be damned.

Love of the Land – Green Linnet, GLCD 1097
Words and Music by Robbie O’Connell © 1986
Slievenamon Music (BMI)